The Haunting of Harry Osborn
by Shades of Venom
Summary: After a ghostly visit from his father, Harry takes up the costume of the Goblin. But the torment of his father's ghost causes him to seek help in a small Maine town.
1. Rebirth

I own nothing!

_The Haunting of Harry Osborn_

He stared in dismay and amazement at the weapons before him. Small round bombs lined neatly up on shelves that seemed to go on forever, the glider and its spare parts were littered nearby. And the mask. It smirked at him from across the tiny space. _Come on, what are you waiting for?_ It seemed to ask. Harry shook his head to refuse and placed the cylinder back on the stand. He turned to leave, the motion detector lights dimming as he moved away. The hideous disguise faded into obscurity along with it.

While carefully navigating around the mirror shards, Harry stopped. Something was following him. A rattling clank and then the sound of something rolling along met his ears. He strained to see in the dark. It was the vial, tumbling atop the rotten floorboards. With a clink, it stopped at his feet, the label facing upwards. An audible snicker rang throughout the room. A sound that was getting to be very familiar.

"Go away." Harry mumbled weakly. He continued on through the glass.

"_But Harry, I'm your father. You need me…" _It moaned.

Harry was outraged. This _thing_ was not his dad; he had died at the hands of Spider-Man, his best friend Peter Parker. The realization of this hit Harry again and a wave of fresh tears came forth. His own friend, how could he? The tears burned, scorching a path down his face. He made a fist and punched the couch where Peter's face had been.

_"Yes, unleash your anger, kill him…avenge me…" _The voice hissed hungrily

"But I can't… I won't, he's like a brother to me. How could I hurt him?"

Thoughts and images fluttered in Harry's head. Peter and his father fighting, no, Spider-Man and the Green Goblin fighting, the goblin lay fallen and a victorious Spider-Man closing in to finish him, fangs protruding from his bug like visage. Harry's stomach churned at the thought, the disgusting taste of vomit rising to his lips. Pete would never do such a thing; he was a harmless nerd not a savage murderer. But the fight with Flash, ever since then Harry knew something wasn't right. Peter wasn't so helpless anymore. But who knows, maybe the side effects of his powers also warped his mind? Like his father and the enhancer drug.

Harry moved over to the smashed remnants of the looking glass. The green tube was still there. The lightning storm outside worsened and the wind whipped the curtains about him. It whispered to him. "_Take it; use it for the payback that the insect deserves!"_

"That insect is my friend. I just can't…" He picked it up and flung it as hard as he could over the rooftop. "_No!" _It screamed. With a heavy sigh, Harry dropped back to the couch. He would listen no longer to that deranged shell of his father. He marched back to the secret room and plucked the remaining cylinders off the wall.

"You will not bother me anymore!" Harry yelled defiantly as he walked over to the ledge with his armload of chemicals.

The laughter began again, starting softly at first but growing louder and louder. Harry winced at the noise and fought his way to the edge. The city lights dimmed and brightened at the flashes of the chaotic light storm. The ruckus was earsplitting, the pain immeasurable, driven by pure insanity. Harry let go of the canisters to block his ears. The containers shattered and bled green liquid underneath his feet. Emerald fog immediately enshrouded him and clogged his airways. Choking on the thick smoke, his eyes watering, Harry saw something rise up from over the balcony where he had thrown the other cylinder. It was the Goblin. His jade armor ripped and bloodstained with sickening yellow eyes blazing through the haze, the glider silently humming beneath him. His son waved a hand to disperse the dense vapor to make out more details. Was his mind playing tricks on him?

"_Harry…" _He groaned. He sounded pathetic, feeble.

He could see that the older man had his arms crossed around his stomach, as if hurt. Something shiny was in his hand.

"_Help me Harry, I need you. Let me rest in peace."_

With that statement his arms dropped to his sides, revealing several large gashes in his torso. Harry had to look away as he realized that he could see through the injuries to the building beyond. _That's how he died, that how Spider-Man killed him._ Harry thought. He closed his eyes so that a queasy feeling passed.

"_You're weak." _Norman snarled at his son's revulsion.

"_No son of mine will ever be weak!" _

The Goblin tossed whatever he had in his hand at Harry. Through watery eyes, Harry saw that it was the vial he had discarded earlier. Now it was fragmented along with the others on the ground. The voluminous cloud intensified and Harry was lost in its opaque darkness once again. But this time was different. He fell to the floor, doubling over as if socked in the gut. He pulled his legs to his chest and tried to wait out the pain, it felt like his whole body was on fire, like he was a piece of clay in the kiln hardening into a mold. But what was he being molded into? He clutched at his arms which seemed to swell and enlarge, his chest tightened under his shirt. The final thing he saw was the figure of his dead father disappearing into thin air, "_Nighty Night Harry." _He snickered. Then his eyes rolled back and all was dark.

The next morning was like a rainbow after the storm. All was calm and peaceful. Soft sounds of the usual morning rush met his ears as he awoke. His eyes opened and slowly swept over his surroundings. He was still crumpled on his terrace, one of his advisers staring uncertainly over him.

"Mr. Osborn, are you feeling well sir?" It was Richard Wallace; an acquaintance of the family.

Harry moved to stand, the floor tilting slightly as he did so. Wallace helped him into a chair.

"Must've been the Vodka." Harry commented lamely. His head pounded.

"Do you need a doctor?" The businessman wrung his hands nervously.

But Harry shook his head, "No, I'll be fine. Give me a minute."

He nodded and backed out of the room.

Once the door clicked shut, Harry stumbled to a mirror. He did appear to have too much to drink, his eyes red and glazed, his hair unkempt and everywhere. His button up shirt which was the right size ripped at the seam when he reached up to smooth his hair as if sizes too small. What had the gas done to him? He left that mirror and went to the other one which lay in pieces. Peering up at him was his father's face grinning wickedly, multiplied by the jagged shards.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" Harry yelled angrily and stomped out the face.

"_You are my son, the Goblin's son. No longer weak, no longer powerless. Now you are ready. Follow my footsteps, become your worst fear!" _

Harry walked numbly into the passage, the mask popping up on its stand out of the gloom. He grazed it tenderly with his fingertips. He didn't want to do this, but he had no choice. If getting rid of Peter ended his torment, then so be it. Slipping on the grotesque disguise, Norman's son emerged from the broken mirror, punching out the shards with a heavily armored hand. He felt the surge of adrenaline kick in, he was unstoppable, no one could stop him. Except for one. With an animalistic growl he went to the window and pressed a button on the armor. Bricks showered the veranda as his glider erupted from the wall and flew to his side. He hopped on was about to gun it when a voice drew him back.

"Mr. Osborn, are you alright? What was that noise?" It was Richard, standing in the doorway. A horrified look crept into his face as he saw him. "Harry…?"

Harry chuckled darkly and stepped down, one hand behind him.

"Harry is dead. Just like you!"

The villain pitched the spherical bomb at the stunned man. With a fluid motion he leaped back onto his machine and took flight. He cackled gleefully as the room behind him exploded in a flurry of stone and splinters. The Goblin was back.


	2. Spring Cleaning and the Phone Call

Chapter 2

"There we go."

Kathleen Harvey stood back and admired her handiwork. The room was spotless. She had toiled all day to in this one room, dusting, clearing the cobwebs out of the corners. Now the azure comforter gleamed anew amid sparkling white linens, the windows wiped free of grim and mildew let in the late afternoon sun. She pushed them open to welcome the invigorating sea breeze just as a pearly white figure floated into the room. Casper whistled.

"Beautiful." He remarked.

"Thanks, it took me forever to clean."

"I wasn't talking about the room." He laughed playfully.

Kat flushed with slight embarrassment at the comment. She was covered in sweat and dirt, dressed in a tank top and shorts. It was as far from beautiful as she had ever felt.

"Thanks." She added nervously and undid the bandana holding back her hair.

It stayed clumped in the same position. Wonderful, she thought grimly.

Casper smiled and went over to the dresser were a thin board was spread atop its surface. It looked like game board with letters and numbers in rounded arcs and two words at the top and one at the bottom. Yes, no, and good bye.

"The Ouija board, you found it." The spirit gasped as he inspected the elaborate sketches of the moon and stars in the corner and a blazing sun in the other. Kat walked over curiously.

"I found it when I cleaned out the closet. Was it yours?"

He barely shook his head, his transparent hands sweeping over the ancient parchment.

"My ancestors from my dad's side took it with them when they left Ireland. They bartered it from some gypsy on the side of the road who was begging for food. In exchange she gave them this. Ever since then it's been handed down, my dad just kept it some display case. He didn't really use it until my mom died."

"When was that?" Kat asked softly.

"I don't know. Right when I was born I guess. From then on he was obsessed with this thing." The specter stared off into the distance, a memory coming to him.

_The halls of Whipstaff were usually busy and bustling with servants getting ready for the evening meal. Casper hated being in the way, so he turned down a deserted hallway and relaxed as the sounds of clattering dishes grew dimmer and dimmer. He strolled down the elegant passages adorned with expensive paintings and gleaming suits of armor. _

_The boy passed guest rooms with bright colorful windows, their ornate doors open and welcoming. Save for one. It had the god Poseidon carved at the very top and waves of turquoise accented wood traveled down its sides like water. Casper knew this was the room with the best ocean view, his mother's favorite as he had been told. The door had a sinking ship carved on it, perhaps lured to the rocks by the sirens inscribed in one corner. But the sea god had his trident raised high and the souls of those lost weren't drowning, but being lifted from their watery graves. _

_Casper shuttered, why had his father chosen this morbid scene was beyond him. A soft muttering voice fluttered to his attention. Slowly, Casper gripped the knob and pushed it open a crack. The curtains had been drawn and a single blood red candle was in the middle of the floor, the only light in the suffocating darkness. His father was hunched over something, his back to his son. _

"_Are you here Rose?" He asked to the flickering shadows. _

_Casper gazed as the J.T's hands moved to a section of the board and stopped._

"_Please, why don't you send me a sign? Anything! I miss you."_

_His shoulders began to shake with sobs. He let go of the viewer and reached up to dry his eyes. Water splashed on the celestial drawings on the open board._

"_Dad? What are you doing?" Casper curiosity led him to his father. _

"_Casper! What are you doing here? Go down to dinner, I'll be there in a minute."_

_Reluctantly, the youth followed the order, his blue eyes filled with concern and confusion. Downstairs the dinner bell rang and rang._

"I'll get it." Kat said softly. With pristine grace she got up and left the room to answer the insistent phone. Casper blinked back to the present. He left the Ouija board as it was and silently left the room, shutting the blue tinged door.

Kat swiftly made her way to her dad's office where he lay snoring atop some paperwork. The loud phone didn't even faze him. Gotta tell him not to work so much, Kat mentally reminded herself as she answered the phone.

"Hello, this is-" She started, but was cut off abruptly.

"I need to speak with Dr. Harvey." A deep voice rasped.

"Ok…hold on please."

She rolled her eyes at the voice's rudeness and poked her dad to awaken him. Mumbling incoherently, he grabbed it and put it to his ear without lifting his head.

"This is Dr. Harvey. Who am I speaking to?"

With a start he bolted upright, some paper still sticking to his face. Kat furrowed her brow and leaned in to listen. James Harvey removed the paper and gestured at Kat to get a pen. She brought one over, leaning so close she could hear the other's voice but no words.

"Did he speak to you? Did he call you by name?"

James wrote furiously in his doctor's shorthand, his daughter could only piece together random words. This continued on for several minutes. Casper came in and began to open his mouth to speak but Kat silenced him and nodded in the direction of his father. The ghost showed his understanding and kept quiet. Finally, James wrote "Apparition" on his paper and circled it.

"No, you don't need to bring evidence. Trust me, I believe you Mr. Osborn."

The doctor shot a look at Casper's direction at the statement. He frowned at a pause.

"You want to come here? I usually see patients on house calls. But I could make the exception... Tomorrow? That'll be fine Mr. Osborn, Harry. Ok, good bye."

He hung up. The anxiety Kat had kept in for the past five minutes rushed out her in a series of questions.

"Who was he? Does he have anything to with that singer? Why is he coming here? How the heck are we going to get the trio out of the house?"

She was about to ask more but James put up a hand to stop her.

"That was Harry Osborn. He claims to be visited by his father who died two years ago."

Kat stood stunned. "_The_ Harry Osborn? As in Oscorp Industries in New York City? The one People Magazine named most eligible bachelor of the year?" She squealed.

"That's the one."

At this the teenager jumped up and down, yelling "Yes! Yes! Yes! And he's even coming here! Yes! Yes!"

She took Casper's hand to bring him into her happy dance but all he could do was sniff a "So what?" And turn away.

Kat's spastic dancing paused for a second, panic struck across her face.

"I have to find something to wear! And the house! I have to do more cleaning! Casper, I'm going to need your help! Casper?"

She looked about for the helpful spirit but he had left.

Harry hung up the phone heavily. He had done it, he had to. Already, reports of the Osborn penthouse explosion had made headlines. All he could do was sigh and hope that his evil half wouldn't resurface at MJ's wedding, which he almost forgot was today. His brand new tux with a crimson bowtie was laid out on his bed. Despite his "outburst" earlier, he was determined to go on as if life was normal. The call to Dr. Harvey was one step in that direction. He needed someone that had experience in these issues, not just someone to flat out call him crazy. And he had to go to in person, if the shrink showed up at his doorstep the media would have a field day. He would be labeled a psycho and that would worsen things. As for his father's ghost…well, his days were numbered, Harry thought to himself as he pulled on his jacket. Reaching for his tie, Harry drew back. Moments ago it was a rich wine color, now it had transformed in a blink of an eye to a dull olive. Somewhere, a malevolent giggle sounded.


	3. Anger, Trickery

Chapter 3

To Harry's surprise, he felt not the least bit insane as he pulled up to the church. He didn't even mind when the media came charging up to him, peppering him with questions about the attack on his late father's home. All he would say was that it was the Goblin's fault and that the issue would be resolved shortly.

"But the Goblin hasn't been seen in two years, why did he reappear now?" Asked one of the reporters who was scrambling for a better view.

"Who knows why that monster does what he does? We can only hope he will cause no further destruction. No other questions, please."

Without another word Harry turned his back and went to the church doors, the mass of reporters moved as one behind him, screaming for more answers. Luckily, some of his personnel cut them off. They knew he would be here at his ex-girlfriend's wedding, they always knew where he would show up next. In an instant he found himself in the crowded church. There were some stares and whispers but he could care less as he made his way to the front. He was surprisingly calm, his other half quiet and his father had yet to make an entrance. It wished it would stay that way.

A few minutes later the procession commenced, the groom and best man were last.

The music for Mary Jane's appearance reverberated off the walls as people stood, staring anxiously at the aisle entrance. Harry managed a smile. But instead of the lovely MJ in her white gown, a bridesmaid in her somber black walked up to the altar. She handed John a note…

They would later say that she had gotten cold feet, but Harry knew better. She had run off to Peter. Infuriated at this, Harry slid had out a side door. He felt the anger boiling to the surface. Not only was his one time friend a killer, but a destroyer of marriages! He didn't bother waiting for his driver to return, so he jumped in the seat himself and pulled away. He sped to his apartment, quickly changing and taking several packed bags. Then he proceeded to toss them in the back with the concealed glider. All of this in the span of a few minutes, he had to get away, now. The wicked half was awake and thirsting for blood. If he confronted Peter now, it would be chaos. And chaos brought unwanted attention.

It would require several long hours to reach Friendship, but he didn't care. The sooner he got there, the faster he could get rid of his ghostly company, which was now reflected in his rearview mirror.

"_Turn around." _Norman told him.

Harry replied with a firm "No."

It was hard to concentrate on driving, his eyes going back and forth between the road and the menace in the back. Norman vanished with an impatient noise. Harry calmed himself and put his favorite sunglasses. It made him feel invisible and right now he would like nothing better.

Kat would've liked nothing better that to be invisible also. The three ghosts that were currently looking at her did so with an air of annoyance.

"An' what, pray tell, are you doing here Ms. Kitty?" The leader glared at her.

Truth be told, she didn't know either. She was in some seedy bar that was mostly empty except for the trio casually sitting on barstools. Even though she had been putting up with them for several years, Stretch's fierce stare still stopped her in her tracks. Think of something, anything to get them out of the house! She told herself. The other two waited interestingly for her response.

"Well," She spat, putting on a brave front.

"I was going to tell you about the Kelly Clarkson concert, the one with tons of screaming giggling morons who would probably scream even more if they saw a ghost. But if you're going to be rude I might as well leave." She took a few steps towards the door.

"Kelly Clarkson?" Fatso said excitably.

"Who cares?" Stinkie said, going back to his drink.

But Stretch had that look on his ectoplasmic face, the one that many of the living wished they hadn't seen.

"That many? With big screens everywhere?"

"And it's in Florida too; the beaches are packed this time of year." Kat added.

"When does it start?" He inquired.

"Tomorrow."

"Why didn't you say something sooner? Let's go!" Fatso was all ready dragging Stinkie along.

"I guess it could be fun…" Stretch trailed off and followed the pair out.

If Kat had been a religious woman, she would've crossed herself and bent down on her knees thanking God. But all she could manage was a sigh of relief. Now she didn't have to worry about the sessions ending in disaster. Dr. Harvey had warned her that this was like every other appointment he had in the past, and to treat Harry like a normal person. That meant no asking for his picture or autograph or getting "involved" as he put it. Kat had to laugh at that one. Here she was at twenty years old and her father was still worried about that. Dads will be dads, she reminded herself.


	4. Whipstaff

Chapter 4

He had just crossed the Maine state line when his phone rang. For a brief second, he took his eyes off the road and scanned the caller ID. Peter. It sounded again. Harry picked it up and held it, considering on whether or not to answer. Not now, he decided, and hit the ignore button. It was silent once again. He drove like that for the next few miles before turning on the radio, absently tuning in to whatever station had music playing. A guitar riff whining along with the beat of some fast drums caught his attention. He listened with interest as the lead singer belted:

_Can't escape this hell _

_So many times I've tried _

_But I'm still caged inside_

_Somebody get me through this nightmare _

_I can't control myself…_

Harry turned the volume up and the car filled with the pulsating music.

_So what if you can see _

_The darkest side of me _

_No one would ever change this animal I have become _

_Help me believe, It's not the real me _

_Somebody help me tame this animal..._

_"__Kids and their music these days." _Norman laughed beside him.

"_It fits though." _Harry nodded his agreement. The song went through a brief break before returning, with even more emotion and intensity.

_Can't escape myself _

_So many times I've lied _

_But there's still rage inside _

_Somebody get me through this nightmare _

_I can't control myself!_

After a few more refrains the tune ended and Harry flicked off the radio. Again it was quiet. Norman was still there, staring straight ahead. He looked alive enough. Shadows from the coming evening swept over him as his son stared at him from the corner of his eye. Harry jumped when he finally spoke, his voice human sounding, like his real father.

"Why are you going Harry? You think this doctor can actually help you?"

"I'm hoping." He responded softly, glad for this fleeting moment of sanity.

"But what about Peter?."

"What about him?" Harry gripped the wheel hard and glanced over.

"If you have any chance of defeating him, you're going to have to use that strength of yours."

"The one you cursed me with? I don't think I can ever be sane again! Every time I think about Spider-Man I feel like I want to kill! And I did."

Immense guilt washed over him like a tidal wave. Norman replied quickly.

"His death was insignificant. A message was sent: _The Goblin is back and out for blood!"_

He laughed crazily and faded away, leaving Harry blissfully alone.

By the time he reached the stony gates of Whipstaff it was close to eight. Last dregs of the day lingered around the horizon behind the massive structure. It was all stained glass intertwined with steel and wood in fantastic shapes that melted into the sky. Several towers jutted out from the building added to the surreal environment. He had to crane his neck upwards to see the whole mansion. Dr. Harvey had welcomed him for a stay or two in the house, and he accepted. Harry was glad he did. It wasn't everyday you had a chance to spend a night in a castle by the sea. As he drove through the open gates one thing nagged him. There were reports of deaths in the home, of murders and ghosts. At first he had waved it off, the media had overblown the story. But with the activities that had been going on lately at his apartment, he shuddered at the thought of meeting another spirit.

Harry parked the car near the front steps. Salty air stung his nose as he exited the vehicle and collected his bags. He reached the front door, but before he had a chance to knock it opened wide and a figure stepped out.

She was talking to someone as she bumped into him.

"I'll be back in a min-Oh! I'm sorry!" She apologized as her forehead connected to his shoulder. "My fault." They repeated at the same time. She gasped as she looked up at him, blushing and growing pale at the same time.

"Mr. Osborn, right?" She asked meekly.

He smiled, "Harry." He corrected.

"Ok, well, uh. Come in, I'll tell my dad you're here." She opened the door wider and moved away so he could enter. The inside was even more detailed than the outside, if that was possible. The floor gleamed with a dizzying swirling pattern. A gigantic chandelier loomed overhead, curlicues tapered off it and grew like vines to the wall. Dim lights hung from Greek goddess's lamps and various niches, giving the home a cozy feel.

"My name's Kat, by the way." She flashed him a nervous grin.

He returned it as he studied her features. Her long, russet hair was straight as an arrow and floated out behind her when she moved. The same chestnut color applied her eyes as well, which lit up along with her warm smile. She was pretty, he had to admit. Kat led him into a roomy two storied study with an opened balcony and twisting metal stairs. Massive windows looked out to a porch and the ocean beyond.

"Dad, Harry's here." She called to a man getting up from a desk.

"Sorry I didn't let you know I was earlier than expected, Dr. Harvey." Harry said as they shook hands.

"That's alright." James assured him with a smile that mirrored Kat's.

They sat and talked briskly about Harry's experiences, what the sessions would cover and the like. Kat stood out in the hall to listen, suddenly struck with shyness. She could argue with any nasty supernatural being any day and win. But her tongue tied in front of guys, especially ones as attractive as Harry.

"Is ten tomorrow morning ok?" She heard her father ask.

"That's fine." The younger man responded.

"Have you eaten anything by the way? You can help yourself in the kitchen."

"I already have, but thanks for the offer."

"I'll show you to a room then."

With the squeaking of chairs, the two stood up. Kat skittered out of the way as they came into the foyer. She piped up without thinking:

"I'll show him the room!"

James looked at his daughter curiously.

"I thought that since you had a lot of work to do…" She let the sentence dangle.

"Ok." He answered back, a little wariness in his voice. He then retreated back to his study with the shout of, "Bright and early at ten Harry!"

"Will do."

Kat waited patiently on the stairs for him and together they walked. Harry was used to living in opulent surroundings, but he just couldn't help but stare at the dozens of artifacts he passed. At the top of the stair they turned left, facing an open doorway to a room.

"That's my room." She explained as they passed it went to the one next door.

"And this one is yours."

She opened a teal shaded door and Harry went in. The whole room was decorated in various shades of blue, from the bedspread, to the walls and the lush carpet. Weighty curtains were held back to uncover a scene not unlike the one from the study.

"This is great." Harry complemented.

"The bathroom's over there." She pointed to a door off to the left. Even that was fancily engraved.

He set his stuff down and began to unpack, but Kat gently put a hand on his arm.

She talked in a low tone. "Harry, if you see anything…unusual, just let me know alright?"

"Such as what?"

"Well, there is this one, uh, ghost, that isn't particularly happy that you're here. If he tries anything _funny _you let me know."

"So there are ghosts here?" Harry shivered as his fears were confirmed.

Kat gave a barely perceptible nod. "But its fine, he's not at all mean."

Only when he's jealous, she mentally added.

She gave his arm a comforting squeeze and went to the door. "Good night."

"Good night Kat."

The door closed behind her. He continued to unpack, although a little bit more hurried than before.

--Song by Three Days Grace: _Animal I've Become_--


	5. Fights and Therapy

Chapter 5

Casper was waiting when Kat retreated back to her room. He stood in the middle of the room, arms folded; wearing a callous expression she'd never seen on him.

"Not particularly happy, huh?" He repeated her words.

Kat rolled her eyes and disappeared into the closet, shouting her response.

"It's true!"

"I'm not mad, I'm just…" He searched for the right word.

"Envious." Kat finished for him, emerging from the closet.

She gave him a smug smile as she seated herself on the corner of the bed.

"You don't think I notice you sulking every time a guy comes over?"

He sat down next to her, "I don't sulk."

"Well you do, and then you pull every trick you know to make them leave."

"That talking doll really could talk by itself! That wasn't me."

Kat threw up her hands in annoyance. "Every date I've had, you ruin it!

The only three I've ever had and possibly my last."

Casper didn't speak. She softened her tone a bit, but one could still hear the razor sharp edge to her words.

"I know you're just trying to protect me, but please. I'm not thirteen anymore, I can handle it."

With that, she got up to brush her teeth, leaving a stunned phantom in her wake.

Harry listened to the murmur of voices as he lay barely awake. He wondered if it was Kat and the ghost or the gurgle of the sea drifting from the open window. The door creaked open. Dimly, he made out the shadowy outline of someone coming in.

"Thought I lost you there, this is some place isn't?" His father waltzed in, dressed in his usual black.

"I'm asleep." Harry rolled over to his other side, but he was there too.

"Is that anyway to say goodnight to your father?" He teased.

"Goodnight, now leave." Harry pulled the covers closer and closed his eyes.

Norman narrowed his eyes evilly, "I'm warning you to-"

His son cut him off, "To get Spider-Man, blah, blah, blah. Yeah I got it. Bye!

In a blink of an eye, Norman's hand shot out and wrapped around Harry's throat, lifting him off the bed.

"You're lucky you're my son or else you'd be dead for that. Now, before I was rudely interrupted, I was going to say something about you're cute little girlfriend."

"Kat?" Harry choked out. "I just met her today! She's not my girlfriend!"

"Well your _wandering_ eyes told me otherwise. You better not start anything, or else she'll mysteriously vanish, only to reappear on the beach with a bad case of sunburn. That is, if there's any pieces left of her!"

He snickered wildly, Harry reached up pried the hands off and shoved as hard as he could. Norman sailed into a wall with loud thud, a surprisingly cheery look on his features.

"That's it, fight back."

But Harry shook his head, gasping slightly for air. "Leave Kat alone."

"She'll do nothing but take your money, rip your heart out, and leave you crying uselessly over it."

"Get out." Harry sneered.

"Harry? What was that? Are you ok?" Kat's worried voice was outside his door.

Norman looked over at the door, then to Harry. "I'll be watching." He jeered, departing

Once more the entryway opened, but this time, a smaller shape emerged.

"Sorry to barge in. I thought I heard a noise."

"Yeah, it must've been the house creaking or something." He lied.

"Ok, just wanted to make sure."

"I'm fine really, thanks."

For a few seconds there was stillness, her brown eyes gleaming at him curiously. He wondered why until he realized that he was dressed only in his pajama pants, shirtless because of the cool night.

"Well, 'night again." She eyed his build one more time.

"Night."

The door softly closed. In the hall, Kat stifled a giggle. Next to her Casper rolled his eyes.

"Oh please."

At breakfast the next morning, Harry followed the delicious scent to the kitchen. The sound of bacon sizzling and the scrape of a spatula could clearly be heard. He opened the door to reveal a welcoming atmosphere of bright sunshine.

"Good Morning! Do you like omelets?" Kat asked merrily from the stove

"I would love one."

He helped himself to some orange juice, leaning back against the counter. Kat was busily cracking eggs and mixing batter, glancing his way every few seconds. She was still in her sleeping shirt and shorts, her hair up in a ponytail. She fixed a plate for both of them and sat down, he joined her. A few minutes later, they were chatting like old friends.

"Good Morning Kat." Casper flew in lazily from the wall.

The conversation abruptly ended and both looked up to see the intrusion. The young ghost peered over at Harry, his blue eyes piercing him. Slowly, a strained smile forced it way on his pale face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." He turned around and promptly left the way he came.

"Was that…?" Was all Harry could manage.

"Casper." Kat answered glumly.

An hour later, Harry found himself in the study, speaking from a comfy armchair rather than the usual shrink's couch. He could easily talk about his childhood or even his father, but when Dr. Harvey brought up a certain topic, Harry's face darkened.

"This Spider-Man character, I've heard he saves people. Now why would he want to kill your father?"

Harry gripped the arms of the chair. They splintered slightly as he spoke.

"Because he figured out his secret."

"A secret that turned a friendly person into a murderer? That's got to be a very dangerous one."

"It is, but I don't want to talk about it." Harry settled back into his chair.

From the partially open passageway in the balcony above, Kat and Casper listened. James had prohibited both from being anywhere near the room during sessions. But Kat just couldn't stay away.

"I don't like the sound of this." Casper whispered to her.

"You just don't like him." She irritably murmured back.

"Maybe. But he could be bad news, your father was right about staying away from him."

"Remember what I said to you yesterday about that?"

"I know, I know. But curiosity killed the cat, remember?" He warned.

Kat sighed and put the wall back in place.

"You're my best friend and I love you, but please stay of out of this."

"You could get hurt or worse and I'm not about to see that happen!"

"I won't die just by talking to him. I'm still alive right now, aren't I?"

She waited for a response. When there wasn't one, she walked away into the dusty passage.

"Love you too." Casper mumbled to her withdrawing figure.


	6. Harry or Goblin?

Chapter 6

Two hours later the appointment was over, leaving Harry free to explore the manor. He couldn't decide where to go next. The beach was cheerfully calling to him, but the mansion's gothic baroque style whispered mysteriously. Turning away from the wonderfully sunny day in the window, he climbed the sweeping metallic staircase. Shelves and shelves of first edition books and autographed works lined the walls. One could spend years reading them all. As he inspected the titles, Harry found something odd. The rows all fit neatly into the cubby that was built solidly into the wall, except for one. A ledge jutted out obliquely from the rest. Curious, he pushed it back into place. With a groan the wall gave in completely and Harry tumbled in. A hidden passageway. Checking to see if anyone saw him, he closed the section firmly. The Goblin's son continued on. The small hallway led to a weirdly shaped room with tons of rubbish and junk. The walls sloped into incredible shapes, like the ones he saw in the foyer. He was in the attic. _Crunch_. Something on the ground caught his ear as well was his eye.

Reaching down to an old stack of newspapers, he picked one off the top and began to read. Just as he was halfway through, he stopped. He felt a strange sensation creeping slowly down his spine, like a rush of frozen water being poured down his back. If what this article said was true… A wild look slithered into his features, laughter erupted all around him. With unbelievable agility he raced back to the opening and out, clattering loudly on the metallic steps. Casper, who had been spying on him, floated behind. He stopped on the porch as he watched the man take off in his luxury car. Where could he be going in such a hurry? Dr. Harvey had left to go see another appointment an hour away, which meant the only other person was…

"Kat!" Casper hurried after him.

The trio had their bar, Casper had his lighthouse, and her father had his study. For Kat, the only place she could get away from ghosts was the bookstore. It was located in the quaint main street of the small town, a small brick structure with rows and rows of novels. It had a tiny coffee shop attached where Kat was currently sitting by the huge glass window facing the road. The argument with Casper still lingered with her as she toyed with the lukewarm cappuccino in her hands. She heard a soft purr of an engine and looked up to see a sleek Mercedes pull into a spot right outside, Harry stepped out. He glanced in her direction, flashing her a toothy grin as he pulled off his sunglasses. He looked like Harry, but the Goblin was in control.

_You will get the information from her at all costs, even if it takes her life._

It whispered in his ear. He took the seat across from her, smile never wavering.

No, there are other means, he assured his other self.

"I thought I'd find you here."

She shrugged. "It's a small town, you'd found me eventually. So how did the session go?"

"Great. Your dad's a nice guy, knows his stuff."

"It's nice for him to have a fan, people say he's crazy." She lowered her eyes back to her coffee.

_She doesn't know the definition of crazy_, the Goblin sniffed.

"No, my dad was the insane one." He added just the hint of sadness in his voice.

"How long ago was it?" She asked.

"Two years."

Both fell into silence. Kat took a sip and lowered her hand back down to the table. Harry reached over, lightly brushing it. Clearly caught off guard, she opened her mouth to begin saying something. But she switched gears and spoke of another topic.

"How?"

"Spider-Man." He whispered for dramatic effect.

Inside his head the Goblin was nearly exploding with anger. _What are you doing? You're supposed to be beating the information out of her! Not putting on a show!_

Patience, Harry answered back. He gave a heartbreaking smile to Kat, whose brown eyes melted with sympathy. She'll tell me everything soon.

"But what can I do? It's not like I can bring him back or anything. I'm sorry I bothered you with this."

Wiping a nonexistent tear from his eye, he stood to leave. He got as far as the door before she held him back. Harry grinned slyly, right on time.

"Actually, there is a way."

She grabbed his hand and led him in between two mountainous shelves, glancing around nervously for anyone that might overhear them. Luckily, the place was deserted.

"Now this is going to sound strange…"

Kat poured out the story of her discovery of the machine that Casper's father built ages ago to resurrect his son. She included everything, even the part where the machine had been used on her father. The Goblin shrieked with triumph. Not only was the machine real, but it worked! After the tale, she looked up him expectantly.

"I can understand if you don't believe me."

"No, I do." He assured her.

All he needed to know was the location of the device. Easy enough.

"Thank you so much Kat, now my father can get the payback he deserves."

Confusion etched itself immediately on her lovely features.

"What payback? What are you talking about?"

What he did next surprised even him. Perhaps it was some unconscious ache inside him, the one spot of him that hadn't been taken over by the sinister Goblin. The tiny part that was still Harry. With a slight gentleness, he silenced her with a forceful kiss. She responded willingly, putting her hands on his shoulders then sliding them to his chest. For a moment he was human again.

But the feeling didn't last too long.

For some compelling reason, he felt the need to open his eyes. His father was standing behind her in full armor, a grave look on his face. Harry broke contact with Kat, eyes wide with terror.

_Now you've done it._

A single explosive shell was in his hand.

_Say goodbye Harry._

He calmly let it spill out of his hand to the floor.

"No!"

Instinctively Harry dove away from the charge, pulling Kat away with him. He crouched against the wall, waiting for the intense heat and earsplitting noise that accompanied it. But nothing happened.

"Harry? What are you doing?"

Kat twisted underneath him, trying to push him off. Reluctantly, he helped her up as he stood but he kept her close.

"It's him. He saw us."

"His ghost follows you around?"

He nodded slightly. "It's not safe for you anymore. We have to go-"

All of a sudden he stopped, releasing the young woman from his grasp and turning away from her.

"Is he here?" Kat asked anxiously.

But Harry couldn't answer, a familiar feeling creeping through him. It felt like a fire heating his skin. No! Not now! He yelled at the Goblin inside. I don't want to hurt her. _Too late, _it huffed. The last piece of Harry dissolved. The young man that kissed her so tenderly was gone, now he swiveled around and grabbed her wrist roughly.

"No more games. Tell me where it is." He snarled in a distorted voice.

Kat whimpered uselessly.

"I'll get it out of you, one way or another." He said with a wicked grin.


	7. Stay Dead!

Chapter 7

Just when things couldn't any worse, it did. As soon as Casper had reached the gates, three teed off specters met him. Casper went right by them but Stretch reached over and pulled him back.

"She lied!" He fumed to his nephew.

"I was hoping for an autograph." Fatso said dejectedly, frowning.

"She lied to get us out of the house. We'll just hafta to throw her out!" Stinkie smirked evilly.

"Let me go! Kat's been kidnapped!" Casper tried to slip free, but the eldest of the trio would have none of it.

"Good for her, but bad for you. If she's not here, we're just gonna have to take it out on you." Stretch gave him a wicked look and turned to his other two siblings.

"Casper looks a little pale. Don't he, boys?"

Fatso and Stinkie laughed mischievously in response. Casper still struggled to break free; his hopes of reaching Kat in time grew dim.

"I think he could use a little sun, literally!"

In a blink of an eye, the group had vanished. A few yards away from where the ghosts had been, a car bounced through the gates. She was terrified. Not only of his crazed behavior, but that she told him where the Lazarus was. Who he was resurrecting sounded as if he was better off dead.

Kat sat still in the passenger seat, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. Harry stared straight ahead as the manor grew closer.

"What's wrong Harry? Why are you like this?" She asked.

He said nothing. Parking the car at the entrance, he got out and went around to the trunk. The case carrying the Goblin armor and partially dissembled wing was unwieldy and heavy; Harry picked it up as if it were nothing. He turned just in time to see Kat dash up the steps and into the home, seeking refuge in its maze of corridors.

_Leave her. You have more important things to do. _

Nodding wordlessly, Harry held tight to the crate and walked into the manor.

Meanwhile, Kat sat huddled in a coat closet. The very same one she and her father raced to after meeting up the ghostly inhabitants for the first time. In the darkness, she could hear the loud creak of the front door. Then silence. She was too far away to hear anything more. She waited a few more minutes, then crept out of the space to the room directly across, which was Harry's. She had told him of the tunnel to the machine that was in the floor of the study, but not of the one in here. The answer was carved right on the door. Poseidon's trident was engraved on it as well as emblazed on almost everything in the room, especially the walls. Kat pushed on a section of wall with the symbol, it sprang open to reveal a plain staircase headed downwards. As she was about to step down, she noticed something. The ouija board lay open on the dresser next to her.

She should stop Harry, but how could she? Maybe if she spoke directly to whatever possessed him…? She gathered the board up, closed the curtains for effect, and sat crossed legged on the bed. Lightly as she could, she placed her fingertips on the rim of the answering glass. She remembered his name was Norman.

"Why are you tormenting your son, Norman?"

Her voice shook a little. The indicator took its time, slowly sliding over each letter: V-E-N-G-E-A-N-C-E.

"For what?"

Again, the pointer leisurely meandered over the elaborate board:

S-P-I-D-E-R-M-A-N, it spelled. The session held just this morning played over in her head. Harry had said Spider-Man had killed his father.

"You want revenge on Spider-Man? Is that why you're pushing Harry to bring you back?"

Swiftly, the marker moved to the upper two corners, circling one word than another. YES, NO. Kat frowned.

"Then why do you want to come back?"

With each letter uncovered, Kat shivered, the fear spreading through her: T-O-K-I-L-L-Y-O-U. She gasped and knocked the board away, sending it clattering to the floor. Now she really had to stop Harry. As she disappeared down the secret steps, she didn't notice the marker slide across the yellowed parchment. Guided by an unseen hand it rushed back and forth between two letters: H-A-H-A-H-A-H-A-H-A.

Back in the basement, Harry inspected the last few containers of crimson stained liquid. There was only a trickle left in each. At first a slight panic seeped into him, was if there wasn't enough?

_There's plenty. _His father's voice snapped. _Just hurry so I can live again, I want to find out if cats really do have nine lives._

Harry smirked at the statement and expertly twisted the cap off of one vial. He then proceeded to break off the closures of the others, dumping the contents of each into the first one. Now he lifted the nearly half full glass in his hand and put the lid back on carefully.

"Harry! Stop!"

Kat's voice echoed off the chamber walls as she emerged from the tunnel. At first she halted in her tracks. He was wearing some strange green costume, an even stranger expression plastered on his face. Mustering up all the courage she had, she ran forward. He ignored her and placed the container in its spot and spun the wheel, just as she said. He looked over to his father, who gave one last look and vanished inside. Now was the time. Harry pulled at the rusty controls, the machine roared to life.

"No!"

She had reached the platform, headed for the red tinted glass. Harry headed her off and wasted no time in spraying her with a bit of sleeping gas in his gloves. She stumbled back, a bit dazed at the vapor. It wasn't enough to put her out completely, he wanted her to see. He held her firmly in his grasp and together they watched and listened as the contraption finally gave one last heave of steam from its bellows. The screech of machinery grinded to a halt and everything stilled. For a moment. A series of loud bangs radiated from inside the steel gray apparatus. From Kat's clouded vision, she saw the door buckle and cave. An emerald clad shape materialized from plumes of fog. It was murky and distorted, but she could see the burning yellow eyes. And they were headed straight for her.


	8. Last Breath

Chapter 8

Kat recollected a story on the news two years ago about a weird man that dressed up in some funky costume. She had laughed out loud. But now that he was standing in front of her, things weren't all that hilarious. The mask that had looked so cheesy on TV looked much more ominous now that it was mere inches from her face. The abnormal yellow eyes slid upwards to reveal dark ones not unlike Harry's.

"Such a curious little kitten, aren't you?"

She recoiled as he carelessly flicked a strand hair from her face. Kat lunged forward to attack, but Harry tightened the hold around her waist. Norman laughed at the sight.

"I'd love to break such a strong spirit, but I haven't got the time, spiders to squash, innocents to kill. That sort of thing, ya know?"

He was leaning against the iron railing, speaking conversationally about these horrors like it was the weather. He's crazy, was the only thought that entered Kat's mind. Norman flicked a careless hand at Harry.

"She's all yours son. Make me proud."

Harry spun her around to face him. His face was a cruel mask, mouth twisted in a sinister sneer. He still retained his crushing hold on her as he slipped off his gloves and settled his hands on the small of her back. He loved the silkiness of her blouse. His hands traveled upwards, trailing along her back, her shoulders and finally to her neck. So delicate. He traced the fragile collarbones, reveling in the softness, her slight withdraw from his touch. He could nearly wrap on whole hand around it. What would happen if he squeezed? So he did. She cried out in terror. He liked that sound. So he did it again. She made a new sound, a raspy choking noise. Not as pretty as the first, but it'll do. His hand clenched harder. Kat fought him uselessly, tearing at his fingers, digging her nails in him. Harry didn't flinch. He could feel the life drain out of her, her resistance grew weaker. Intoxicating, he thought. As she fought bravely on, he leaned forward, lips brushing her ear.

"A kiss before dying."

He moved his mouth to hers, surprised that she kissed back with her diminished strength. It startled him so much that he relaxed his strangling hold. She slumped back in his arms with a last gasp. He stared at the lifeless figure with renewed emotion.

"What…? What did I do?" He whispered.

"What you had to." Came the reply.

His father came up beside him, gesturing to the young woman.

"You didn't need her, Harry. I'm the only one you need. Now that I'm back, we can destroy Spider-Man."

His son offered no response. He only gazed at Kat's inanimate form. Norman narrowed his eyes and gripped Harry roughly by the shoulder.

"Leave her. She'll be found soon enough."

Harry gently placed the girl on the metal walkway and stood. Norman patted his shoulder genially.

"Good boy. Now let's-"

He was cut off by a vicious punch that sent him flying over the railing. Harry smirked as the Goblin splashed into the deep water below. Slowly, he climbed down the steps to stand next to the pool where a sputtering, furiously cursing villain broke the surface.

"That was uncalled for."

Norman dragged himself out, peeling off the disguise. He rubbed his jaw where the blow had landed, then put it back on.

"But well done, Peter will be feeling that one"

At the mention of his best friend's name, Harry pulled his fist back for another hit. Norman caught it easily and replied with a swift strike of his own. The younger man veered off sharply to the side, dimly aware of the knee that connected to his stomach. Norman then grabbed his dazed son and pulled him toward the rebuilt wing. He stepped on it and gunned the engine.

"It's time for a crash course in ethics!"

The Goblin howled enthusiastically as the pair zoomed out of the cavernous room through the single round window. Shards of glass pierced Harry's unprotected fists as he shielded himself, shocking him into awareness. Norman had him by his collar, leaving him dangling helplessly...until he let go.

"This should teach you to respect your elders!"

Norman called gruffly to the plummeting figure. A strange whistling noise was all Harry heard as he fell back to earth. Then _crack! _It wasthe sound of hisrough encounter with a tree branch. Pine needles slapped his face, twigs snapped underneath him as he bounced from limb to limb. The ground greeted him forcefully. Every muscle screamed out in pain, Harry joined them.

"I thought you were over this weakness thing. Or do I have to beat it out of you again?"

The Goblin landed a few feet away, leisurely striding to the fallen young man.

"Harry, Harry." Norman scolded, shaking his head.

"You brought this on yourself. You just couldn't stay away from that girl, now she's dead. You hit me, you get beat within an inch of your life. Are you seeing a pattern?"

"I should've never listened to you!" Harry yelled.

Even though his wounds were gradually healing, he still winced as he boldly stood.

Norman sighed. "Always the slow learner, aren't you?"

He nailed a speedy kick, causing Harry to tumble back into a clearing. It wasn't a forest they were battling in, but a cliff's edge. Harry was made aware of this when he stumbled to the ledge. A harsh drop was mere feet away.

"I'm through with being nice."

Norman's malicious voice cut through the roaring of the ocean as he appeared from the woods.

"Now it's either you join me or join your girlfriend in the hereafter."

He stretched out a hand. Kat… Harry thought of her. Even though he had only known her barely a day, he loved her. Now she laid cold, cold as Norman, cold like himself. He couldn't stand to bring her face to memory. He couldn't stand to live either. He glanced at his so-called father. Living would mean he would have to put up with that _creature. _The one who never loved him, who never showed he cared. Why should he help him? Why did he ever listen to his warped subconscious?

All the insecurities came pouring forth. He didn't want to see that monster's face, not on Norman, not on himself. But where would he find peace? Harry stole a look at the frothing ocean far below. Like a siren's song, it lured him. Killing Peter was not going to stop the anguish. He knew what had to be done. A few shaky steps were all it took to reach the lip of the precipice, a couple more to simply walk off. Down, down he went, falling into the cool sapphire waters. Strangely, it felt as though he was being lifted. And there he went, both falling and flying into oblivion.

_Days Later_

It was an agonized, slightly sobbing Norman Osborn that addressed his fellow shareholders. He pressed a tissue to his eyes every now and then as he recounted the unreal events of the past days as well as his disappearance.

"I was so ashamed of my illness that there was no choice but to fake my own demise. I couldn't anyone, especially Harry."

He paused to hold his head in his hands.

"The small town was perfect, Dr. Harvey could help me and nobody would know."

Norman picked his head up and slumped dejectedly in his chair. He spun around to the glass wall behind him, allowing a fleeting smile of victory before continuing the tale.

"But Harry recently found out and went looking for me. When he got there, the shock of seeing me drove him to madness. He strangled Miss Harvey before leaping to his death."

The bewildered executives glanced at one another, stunned into silence. They were surprised and saddened at the loss of their young supervisor, but seeing his thought to be dead father nearly surpassed it. With coolly calculated smoothness, Norman swiveled to face the group and cleared his throat.

"Now let us have a moment of silence for my beloved son and the late Miss Kathleen Harvey, both taken at such a young age."

The members obliged, closing their eyes and leaning their heads forward. Osborn did the same. That's when he heard it. The low chuckling came from the other end of the room. It seemed to weave throughout the air, growing in intensity until it was shrill maniacal laughter. He glanced around at the others. But they still had their heads bowed, showing no signs of ever having heard the ruckus. It sounded again, this time behind him. Norman swung defiantly around. He came face to face with the image of his departed son. The younger Osborn smiled.

"Now is that anyway to remember your son?"


End file.
